O Vancouver - We stand on guard for thee!

 

Stanley Park

Please don't tell anyone after reading this, because I did something I wasn't supposed to. You see, we're currently on Home Leave, a compulsory period of vacation time designed to re-acclimate ourselves to the American Way after having spent time abroad. Only we've been back in the U.S. for more than a year now, so in theory we should already have readjusted, though I still have un-American ideas on topics such as health care, abortion and gun control. There's no getting away from the Home Leave requirement, however, so readers of this blog know that we spent three weeks driving cross-country to reach our official Home Leave residence in the Seattle, Washington area, where we are currently ensconced until we return to Washington, D.C. next month in preparation for our departure to China. However, the lure of foreign travel has proven to be too strong, as this past weekend I and my family, with my sister in tow, succumbed to the siren call of the Great White North:

Actually, to shift blame Ted Cruz-style, it was my wife's idea, for she has long wanted to visit Vancouver, British Columbia. My only previous trip to Canada occurred forty long years ago, during the great recession of 1982, when my friend Steve Nash and I drove from Sacramento to visit his grandparents in Stanwood, Washington. This was a time before Microsoft, Nirvana and Starbucks, when Seattle was a city that appeared firmly stuck in an irreversible decline. While staying in Stanwood, Steve and I made a very long day trip by car to Victoria, British Columbia, that had us crossing the border back into the U.S. during the early morning hours of the following day. This time would be a more leisurely excursion. 

With my sister Karen behind the wheel as we set out on Friday morning, it was a surprisingly short drive to the Peace Arch border crossing, with an equally surprising brief wait of only around fifteen minutes to cross into Canada. Having used the ArriveCAN app to upload our ID and COVID-19 vaccination docs beforehand, we were quickly welcomed into the country. This was quite a contrast to the experience Steve and I had back in 1982, when the Canadian border officials pulled two long-haired, scruffy-looking American 19 year-olds into secondary inspection, and made them show they had enough money with them for a day trip to Vancouver Island:

Once in British Columbia, we drove to the seaside community of White Rock to seek out lunch. The CCTV Chinese Restaurant was one option, but in the end we decided on the Charlie Don't Surf seaside eatery next door:

Afterward, we took a stroll along the waterfront and on one of the longest piers on the west coast of North America:

Strolling the White Rock Pier brought back childhood memories of Southend-On-Sea, minus the tacky arcade games:

The U.S. lies across Semiahmoo Bay:

Getting ready to chug a Hello Kitty soda, as manly a drink that was ever concocted:

Karen, Shu-E, Amber and yours truly enjoying the seaside:

From White Rock we drove onward to Vancouver, and checked into our Airbnb, the comfortable and accommodating Brij's Place. My wife especially liked the neighborhood, with its many Chinese businesses. Unfortunately, the wait to get into the Taiwanese restaurant almost directly across the street was too slow-moving, likely the result of it being the last day it was open for business:

On Friday evening we drove to the Richmond Night Market, an Asian-themed market that bills itself as the largest of its kind in North America:

The line to get in was two hours' long, but we skipped that by buying the Express Pass:

Inside was similar in many aspects to a typical Taiwanese night market, only with a greater choice of Asian snacks. There were also stalls selling tourist tat, as well as the opportunity to play typical carnival games. It was cash-only in the market, so be sure to have plenty of Canadian dollars with you should you visit:

No coronavirus here, folks, move along...:

My wife was so overjoyed to find stinky tofu 臭豆腐 at the market that she consented to have her picture taken, a rare concession on her part these days:

My joy was in coming across taiyaki たい焼き for sale!:

Yes, that is a dinosaur head in the foreground. I don't know what existed at the site before the night market was established in 2000, but there were dinosaur figures scattered all around the perimeter:

Sunset over Vancouver as we drove back to the Airbnb:

Saturday morning began with a Western-style breakfast (for me and Karen) at a Hong Kong restaurant close by, while the girls opted for a more Asian way (beef buns) to start the day:

Driving into Vancouver and passing by Rogers Arena, home to the Vancouver Canucks of the NHL:

Our first destination of the day was the splendidly expansive Stanley Park, covering 404 hectares (998 acres). On the way in, we spotted the first of what would be several weddings espied on a gloriously sunny day:

We began our explorations with a brief spin on the miniature railway:

Canadian geese. Duh...:

We spent time taking in the views along part of the Stanley Park Seawall:

The 1938 Lions Gate Bridge, spanning the narrows of Burrard Inlet:

A heron patiently waits among the geese for a wayward fish to swim by:

The SS Empress of Japan Figurehead:

The Girl in a Wetsuit:

A memorial to Japanese-Canadians who volunteered to fight during the First World War. Just like their counterparts on the American west coast, the majority were interred during World War II, a shameful chapter in the histories of both countries:

Lunch was had on the patio at Stanley's Bar & Grill:

Following our meal, the four of us took a stroll over to the rose garden for a look around:

We then drove along the seawall. Across the harbor is Canada Place, Vancouver's answer to the Sydney Opera House:

A cruise ship was departing as we stopped to have a look:

Throughout the day floatplanes were taking off and landing:

Driving by Lions Gate Bridge:

Stopping for a look at the hella scenic Prospect Point Lookout:

Shu-E took this photo of Amber and I awed by the presence of a crow:

In the end we spent almost the entire day at Stanley Park, and only barely scratched the surface of all the things to do and see there. As evening approached, and at Shu-E's insistence, we drove into Gastown, a former rough-and-tumble slum area that's now a tourist draw. And for some strange reason, what attracts the visitors like a moth to a flame is the 1977 Steam Clock (don't tell anyone, but only the pipes at the top are fueled by steam; the rest of the clock is powered by electricity):

So this is what all the fuss is about?:

Karen takes a much-needed break. She did all the driving during our visit:

For dinner we dined nearby at the Water St. Café:

The view from the parking garage in Gastown:

The geodesic dome we passed on the way back to our lodgings was Science World, the former Expo Centre for the 1986 world's fair:

As the restaurant where we started the day on Saturday is closed on Sundays, we stopped at that most Canadian of institutions to pick up some donuts for the following day's breakfast:

Did I mention we did some souvenir shopping while in Gastown?:

After checking out of our Airbnb on Sunday morning, we drove to the International Buddhist Society in Richmond so that my wife could show her sister-in-law what a Buddhist temple looks like. Karen was suitably impressed, especially by the garden:

The main building was unfortunately closed to visitors:

With $37.05 Canadian remaining in my wallet, we stopped at the Peace Arch Duty Free store, where I managed to spend $36.98. Mission virtually accomplished!:

The Peace Arch. Notice the line of traffic on the right waiting to cross into the United States. It took us 90 minutes to get across the border. Way back in 1982, Steve's car was the only vehicle at the crossing point as we rolled up in the early morning. The bored American border official asked us where we were going. When Steve replied "Stanwood", he inquired why our car had California plates. Satisfied with Steve's answer that we were staying with his grandparents, he then asked if there were any drugs or guns in the vehicle. When we answered "no sir", he waved us through as we transported our shipment of heroin and M-16's into Washington state. International travel in the pre-9/11 days!:

Driving by Mt. Baker (10,786 feet/3288 meters) on I-5:

Showing off what we bought at the duty free shop:

And that was our all-too-brief sojourn into Canada and Vancouver, a city that comes across like a less-threatening Seattle. A side note: my grandmother on my father's side was Canadian, from Winnipeg if I remember correctly, though our dad never said much about his mother's background (some vague hints that a branch of the family that lived in North Carolina before the American Revolution moved to Canada after that conflict ended, suggesting they were Tories). While my mother's lineage has been very well-documented by her relatives in the United Kingdom, my father's family tree is a lot more opaque. 

Do we have any family left in Canada...?